


Long Before You Can Dance

by REDDuke62



Series: Don't Dance [3]
Category: Arrow (TV 2012)
Genre: Alternative Universe - No Island, F/M, Origin Story
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-05
Updated: 2018-04-17
Packaged: 2019-03-14 08:55:09
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 18,980
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13586649
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/REDDuke62/pseuds/REDDuke62
Summary: A two-part story showing how the Oliver and Felicity of "I Thought You Didn't Dance" started to become the people that fell in love with one another.





	1. Oliver Wakes Up

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Five years before Oliver Queen asked Felicity Smoak to dance, he was a different man. This is the story of how he hit bottom and decided to become a better man.

**Five Years Ago**

**Late Sunday Morning, January**

It was the giggle that finally penetrated his alcohol-addled brain. The sound was light and airy, but it still exacerbated the pounding in his head.

How much had he had to drink last night? What had he been drinking? He hadn’t been this bad off in ages.

“Ollie. Are you ever going to wake up?” The voice was musical, followed again by the world’s most painful giggle.

Oliver slowly rotated his head towards the sound. He peeked open his left eye.

He could only see her head and shoulders. Bright blue eyes surrounded by brighter blonde hair looked back at him. A smile that was way too cheerful. A slim, graceful neck descended into a pink t-shirt flowing over thin shoulders. She didn’t even look familiar, he realized.

He closed the eye and the giggle sounded again.

Oliver furiously tried to remember the previous night. Anything would do. But there was nothing; well, no, there was a gray haze where his memories were supposed to be. And pounding. So much pounding.

He finally gave up trying to piece together how he got here, wherever here was, and decided to ask.

He opened his eye again.

“I know this will sound … stupid, but … where am I?” His voice was gravel poured over broken glass.

The giggle was all tinkling bells now. And louder. Much louder. “My house, silly.”

“And you are?” The question slipped out before he could stop it. He had learned long ago that women really didn’t appreciate it when you couldn’t remember their name. Of course, in this case, he couldn’t remember how he met the girl, let alone whether he ever knew her name.

True to his assumption, that big smile went away. Oliver braced himself for what was coming. Then the smile returned.

“Well, last night, you thought calling me ‘Baby’ was funny and I don’t think you ever asked my name. It’s Kimber.”

“Kimber?”

What kind of name was Kimber?

His musing didn’t last long, because trying to puzzle that out just added to his headache.

Kimber giggled again. “It probably should have been Kimberly, but Mom wanted something unique. So Kimber.” She stretched out her arms in a cute but silent ‘Ta-Da,’ but the move was mostly lost on Oliver.

He tried to nod his head in understanding, but between his headache and the awkward position he was lying in, that didn’t work very well.

“Well, despite the circumstances, Kimber, it’s nice to meet you. I hope.” He added the last after he realized that the previous night could have been really bad or embarrassing for either one of them. Or both of them.

There was more giggling. “It’s nice to meet you, too. Since you’re awake, do you want something to eat? Or some coffee?”

It took Oliver a few seconds to process what she was asking. Stupid gray haze. He’d really like to maintain a little dignity here, but his head hurt too much.

“That’d be great. At least the coffee, anyway.”

“Great! But you have to get out of bed, sleepy head. The coffee’s downstairs.”

Oliver started to get up, but then realized that he wasn’t wearing any clothes. Or many clothes. He couldn’t tell for sure.

He looked at Kimber again. She was now standing, so he got a view of her long, bare legs poking out of the t-shirt. He barely stopped his groan at the sight.

“Would you mind giving me a little privacy?”

The girl full out laughed at him this time. “You weren’t shy last night,” she said with way too much amusement in her voice.

“Probably not,” Oliver acknowledged. “This morning – it is still morning, right? – I’d like to maintain at least a shred of dignity.”

“Oh, I guess.” There was a lighthearted pout in her voice. “I’ll be downstairs in the kitchen. Bottom of the stairs, then to your right.”

Kimber was kind enough to pull the door shut when she left the room, but Oliver gave it another minute before rolling to his side to get up. The change in orientation didn’t go as badly as he expected. Once he threw the sheet off his legs, he realized with a good deal of relief that he was still wearing his boxers. Once he was sitting upright, he realized that he felt cleaner than normal after a hard night of drinking and … well, other activities.

He pried the other eye open and was finally able to look around the room without squinting. There was a brief moment of panic before he spotted his clothes draped over a chair in the corner. You would have thought that his jeans and dark henley would have stood out more against all the pink in the bedroom. Everything was pink or white, he realized. God, the room was bright.

Looking around, he spotted an open door on the opposite side of the room that lead to a bathroom. Gathering up his clothes, he went in the bathroom. He took care of the necessities, then splashed cold water on his face. Glancing in the mirror, he was not surprised to see the haggard look he wore. It was typical after a night of excessive drinking. He tried to shake off the sudden feeling of guilt and pulled on his clothes: shirt, socks and then his jeans.

As he pulled on the pants, he could feel weight in several of the pockets, including his cell phone. He pulled it out and glanced at the screen. It was still morning, but not by much. Then he saw that there were a couple of phone calls from Tommy as well as several text messages. Most of them were of the ‘Where are you?’ variety, but the last one was a simple ‘Have fun, you dog!’

In the past, Oliver would have gotten a kick out of Tommy’s combined concern and celebration. But this morning, it just wasn’t funny. He wasn’t completely sure why, but the combination of Kimber’s incredibly innocent face and the fact that he once again tried to drink his troubles away was making him see how foolish he was. And that was uglier than the haggard look on his face.

Oliver went back in the bedroom. Locating his shoes, Oliver texted Tommy and sat down to pull on his Calvin Klein suede sneakers.

**Oliver [11:24 am] I’m going to need a ride.**

He got a quick LOL text as answer. Then his phone rang.

When Oliver answered the call with little more than a grunt, he was immediately met with a burst of laughter from his best friend. Loud laughter. Painful laughter. Finally, he heard Tommy say, “Given the hour, I’ll assume you had an epic night!”

“No,” Oliver growled. And then immediately winced at the sound of his own voice in addition to Tommy’s.

“What?”

“When I woke up, I had no idea where I was. I had no idea WHO she was,” Oliver whisper shouted, unwilling to raise his voice enough to let Kimber hear his admission. “For that matter, I still don’t know where I am. Except that Kimber really likes pink, apparently.”

“Wait a minute. You went home with Kimber? Kimber Dunleavey?”

“Yes, her name is Kimber. I don’t know her last name.”

“Medium height? Bright blue eyes? Long legs? Blonde hair the exact same color as her father, Professor Dunleavey?”

Oliver was still having a little trouble processing things due to the gray haze, so it took a minute to fully sort through Tommy’s questions in his head. When he answered the final one with a yes, he groaned. Loudly. And painfully.

Tommy’s laughter on the other end of the phone call didn’t help at all.

“You, my friend are my hero.”

“No. I am definitely not.” There was a long pause as Oliver continued to think through the possible repercussions of Tommy’s reveal.

“So, I’ll text you an address in a few.” Oliver said, suddenly wanting to get off the phone.

“Oh, there’s no need. I know exactly where you are. I’ll see you in twenty, hero.” Click.

Oliver hung his head for a minute, trying to collect himself. He decided to ignore the fact that Tommy Merlyn already knew where Professor Albert Dunleavey and his daughter Kimber lived. Still, sitting on the disheveled pink-covered bed was not going to make the situation better, so Oliver pulled himself up and exited the bedroom. The stairs were easy to find and he was halfway down before the thought that he might be running into Kimber’s parents in the next couple of minutes occurred to him. That prompted another involuntary groan, but didn’t stop his forward progress.

He easily found the kitchen without running into any disapproving adults. Kimber was sitting at a raised counter, a plate with a half-eaten piece of toast in front of her. Oliver glanced at her very attractive bare legs languidly hanging off the barstool. He followed them down and almost laughed at the sight of her bright-pink painted toenails. He quickly redirected his eyes up to hers when he realized he was lingering. She was again smiling at him, equally amused and flattered. He moved over to the stool next to hers and sat down. A mug of still steaming coffee and two buttered pieces of toast waited for him on a matching plate.

He took a big swig of the coffee, letting the heat of the liquid and the bitter taste of the coffee hit before turning to her.

With a tip of the mug to her, he said, “Thanks for this.”

She giggled. Apparently her favorite form of expression, or at least communication.

He ate most of the first piece of toast before speaking again.

“I’m sure I owe an apology. I’m usually smart enough to not get that drunk and then go home with someone I don’t know. Of course, it appears that my best friend abandoned me last night. He’s usually more willing to make sure I get home if I have a bad night.” Oliver tried to keep the bitterness in his voice to a minimum.

Kimber laid a slim hand on his forearm. “By the time I ran into you, Tommy was very preoccupied by Caitlin Sagersee. You had been left next to the bar and were mumbling about stuck up women that really didn’t have any right to be so.”

Well, that sparked a memory. He remembered being at a frat party held at Max Fuller’s club, Poison. Oliver wasn’t sure how Max managed it, but he would host private parties for Starling City University’s fraternities, even though most of the crowd had to be too young to drink. Oliver, due to his and Tommy’s membership in one of said frats, had been urged to come to the party by the house’s officers. The celebrity status of Queen and Merlyn always drew a better crowd.

Unfortunately for Oliver, he and Laurel had been fighting all week and it had all blown up Friday afternoon. By Saturday, all he wanted to do was get completely sloshed and a frat party with an open bar was an opportunity just waiting for him. Then to top off the week, Oliver had seen Janelle Stafford at the party. He was already inebriated enough that he forgot that he and Janelle had not parted on the best of terms a couple of years earlier. Janelle apparently remembered and other than her whispered ‘keep your hands to yourself’ had ignored him the entire evening. Which led to more drinking. And ultimately Kimber’s pink bedroom.

Oliver pulled himself out of his musings. “I didn’t say or do anything really stupid, did I?”

Kimber looked at him with a serious look for the first time that morning. “You really don’t remember, do you?”

“No, not really. I remember being at Poison and I kind of remember the woman I was mumbling about, but nothing else. I usually don’t get quite that drunk. It’s been kind of a bad week.” Oliver mumbled that last part.

Kimber rubbed his forearm a couple of times before dropping the hand back into her lap.

“So I shouldn’t take your complete blank on last night personally?”

“No, I’m not always the best date, but I like to think I treat women better than that in general. Would you fill in some of the blanks for me?”

Kimber smiled again, but it was smaller than before. Rueful, Oliver recognized.

“Like I said, you were standing by the bar mumbling when I went up to get another beer. I had been standing there for a minute when you finally saw me. You were nice, but I got a ‘Hi, baby. Where have you been all evening?’ for your opening line. It’s a good thing I knew who you were. Otherwise, I probably would have slapped you.”

Oliver shook his head. “Of course, that what I said. I deserved to be slapped for that.”

God, he could be an ass.

“After that, though, you kind of backed off on the lines and just talked. You did ask about me some; what year I was, what I was studying, that sort of thing.”

Oliver stared at her for a minute. “Which, of course, I don’t remember. I never asked your name, though?”

She shook her head.

“It’s Kimber Dunleavey, right?”

Kimber’s eyes widened a little at his inclusion of her last name.

“Professor Dunleavey’s daughter, right?”

She nodded, but didn’t say anything. The smile was definitely gone now, but she wasn’t quite frowning.

“I suppose that means I won’t hear from you after this morning.” Oliver could hear the disappointment in her voice.

“Well, I do have your father for class this semester, so that might be a little awkward.”

That wasn’t the right thing to say based on her facial expression.

“Kimber, can I ask you what you thought was going to happen? Between us, I mean?”

She shrugged. “I don’t know. I hadn’t thought about it too much. I was thrilled that you were willing to come home with me last night. I thought maybe I’d get to spend some time with you once you sobered up.”

Oliver sighed. “How much do you know about me?”

She shrugged again. “I know that when I started classes last fall, the only thing I heard anybody talking about was the fact that you had finally come back to Starling and were going to school at SCU. You’re the best looking guy in the whole school and that when I started pledging the sorority, half the house wanted the chance to get a date.” There was a long pause as she finally considered the situation from that perspective. “Oh, man, I just realized that they’re all either going to be really impressed or they’re going to hate me when I tell them I took you home.”

“If you don’t mind me asking, how old are you?”

“Nineteen. I’m a freshman at SCU.”

Oliver nodded.

“Can I make a suggestion?” Oliver’s voice softened as he spoke. He knew she wasn’t going to like what he had to say.

“Sure.”

“Don’t tell them. The girls in the house, I mean. Well, don’t tell anybody that you took me home. You can tell them that you met me and that we spent a little time talking and that I wasn’t too much of an ass. Or that I was an ass. Most people will believe either story. But don’t tell them about this morning.”

“Why?” Now she sounded hurt.

“Kimber, I don’t know you really well, but you seem like a nice girl. A good girl. You really don’t want to completely trash your own reputation by letting people know you took me home. I know what my reputation is, and it’s not good. For the most part, I deserve it. I don’t think you do, though. And trust me, most people will not be impressed that you spent a night with me. They won’t care what actually happened, because they’ll assume the worst.”

“Oh.” Oliver could see that she hadn’t considered that.

“I also happen to like your dad. He seems like a good man and so far, his is the most interesting class I have had in years. I’d like to stay in it, if possible.”

She wrinkled her nose at that, obviously not sure how to take it.

“What I’m trying to say, Kimber, is that you are way too good of a person to get involved with me. I’m not a good guy. I tend to be selfish and end up hurting most of the people I get involved with. I’m just now realizing how bad I have been. I don’t want you to get hurt as well.”

Kimber relaxed a little. “I don’t think you’re a bad guy, Ollie. But I understand what you are trying to say. I guess.

“Good. Look, Tommy Merlyn is going to be here to pick me up in a few minutes. I’m not going to run into your parents, am I?”

Kimber giggled again, softer now. “No, they went out of town for the weekend. They won’t be back until late this afternoon.”

Just as Oliver nodded in acknowledgement, there was a car horn sounding from outside. Even from a distance, the sound hurt. He stood up and took a step closer to her, placing a hand on the arm closest to him.

“That will be Tommy. I want to thank you, Kimber. You did me a huge favor last night. If I can ever help you, would you let me know? You can get ahold of me through Queen Consolidated. And I’m really sorry that this didn’t turn out to be what you hoped, but trust me, it’s far better this way.”

He leaned in just enough to give her a quick kiss on her cheek before he pulled back. He turned away without saying anything more and left the kitchen. He moved quickly to the front door and left the house. The bright sunlight immediately worsened his headache, but he continued moving down the surprisingly long sidewalk to Tommy’s waiting vehicle.

< = = = = = >

As Oliver reached the car, he noticed both the acrid smell of burning fuel from the exhaust and the low rumble of the engine. His stomach rolled just a bit at the smell, but he ignored it. As he slipped into the passenger seat, it felt as if the pounding in his head now surrounded him. The rumble of the sports car was overwhelming. He suddenly wished for a bottle of water.

There was a part of Oliver who still fully appreciated the sight and the sound and the feel of a great sports car. And the silver Lamborghini was certainly all that. Oliver had even been a little jealous when Tommy had decided to buy this particular car because it meant that Oliver couldn’t. The two of them had created some unspoken pact back in high school about never owning the same model of car, and it became a weird game of one-upmanship to see who could buy the newest model hitting the market.

Right now, in the wake of his morning with Kimber and the weight of his suddenly oppressive conscience, Oliver fully recognized how pointless that kind of competition really was. Even without the still pounding headache, Oliver is sure he would have felt no thrill in climbing into the metallic beast.

Once the door was closed, Tommy pulled up his sunglasses and took a long look at him. And laughed. This was a fairly common occurrence when Oliver got the worse end of a night out partying. Oliver found it more annoying this morning that ever before, though.

“Wow, dude, I hope last night was magnificent. Because you look horrible this morning.”

“Shut up, Tommy.”

More laughter. Was everybody going to enjoy his misery this much?

“No really, man. I hope you had a great night.” Oliver could tell that despite his mirth, Tommy was serious.

“That’s just it. I really don’t remember a damn thing. I finally remembered that Janelle Stafford ignored me and I decided to just drink until I passed out. Thanks, by the way, for just leaving me to chase some woman. After Janelle, I remember nothing until I woke up to sunlight and pink giggles this morning.”

More laughter. “Pink giggles?”

“Can you stop laughing, already? That really hurts.” Oliver yelled as he massaged his temples, just making things worse..

“Sorry, buddy,” Tommy said in a lower, but still amused voice.

Then he revved the engine of the Lamborghini and that was just as bad as the laugh.

“How ‘bout we go get some incredibly greasy food and then I take you back to my place to sleep it off.”

“No. I want you to take me out to the docks. I’m going to the _Gambit_.”

“You’re going on the water in this condition?”

Oliver could tell Tommy wanted to really laugh at that, too, but was too surprised to do so.

“No, but it’s quiet and I need some time to think.”

“What’s to think about, Ollie. You can’t be mad or upset about Janelle. You and I both know that you do not want to revisit that. She’s crazy. Now if it’s Laurel that’s got you upset, I get that. But if you give it some time, she’ll come around. She always does.”

Oliver shook his head, instantly regretting it.

Good grief, did he always inflict this much pain on himself when he had a hangover?

“Tommy, I got drunk enough last night that I can’t remember a significant portion of the night. I was lucky enough that a nice girl ended up taking pity on me and saved me from myself. Because that’s what she did. Nothing happened between us, but if it had that could have blown up in my face. I’m trying not to think about it, but it’s all I can think about. I got really lucky.”

“You’re really bothered by this, aren’t you?”

“Yeah. I’m tired of screwing up, Tommy. I need to make some changes.”

“So, you don’t want to go out tonight?” Tommy asked slyly. “I’ve heard about a really cool party and I was thinking about going. You know, just to see if it meets the hype. Put the Merlyn/Queen stamp of approval on it and all that. If the party hits you, you need to hit back.”

“You’ll have to go solo.” He paused. “If the party hits you … that was just dumb, Merlyn.”

Oliver closed his eyes, trying to find some equilibrium despite the pervasive sound of the Lamborghini’s engine. He could feel Tommy glancing over at him, but his friend decided not to comment further. Instead, he drove Oliver out to the Starling Yacht Club’s docks.

Despite the fact that Tommy decided not to pursue further conversation, Oliver didn’t feel the temptation to nod off. A lot of that was the noise of the car and his still severe headache, but the rest was the thread of regret running through his mind. Oliver still wasn’t fully sure why he felt the weight of his actions this morning. He normally prided himself on his ability to ignore the potential consequences of his actions, but not this time.

With eyes closed, he could see the look on Laurel’s face when she had confronted him about his latest infidelities a week ago. He couldn’t remember seeing the hatred in her glare before. But it had been there last Sunday. And she kept coming back. She had confronted him Monday afternoon. And again on Wednesday. Then the long rant over the phone on Thursday. Even Friday morning. What surprised Oliver, though, was that she never even threatened him with ending their relationship. Instead she treated him as if he were a child. Scolding him for his actions, threatening that she wasn’t going to attend some party with him. That she wasn’t going to accompany him to the next charity event put on by his parents. That she wasn’t going to come to Sunday brunch for a while.

Interspersed with Laurel’s angry visage was the disappointment on Kimber’s face. Then it was the disapproval on his mother’s face as she had to hear of another of his ill-considered actions. Finally, there was the confused and hurt look on Thea’s face as she realized that her brother wasn’t as perfect as she once thought he was. The fact that his selfish behavior was now impacting his sister was the worst part of it all.

Soon enough, Tommy pulled in a parking space in the lot just outside the fenced off grounds of the Starling Yacht Club.

“You sure this is where you want to hang out?” Tommy asked. Oliver detected some concern in his voice.

“Yeah. I’ll be okay, Tommy. The water doesn’t bother me. I’m just going to sleep some more, I think.”

Oliver pushed open the door and stood up out of the car. His headache and the general stiffness he felt, combined with his height, made getting out of the low-slung seat more difficult than normal.

When he was fully standing, he realized Tommy had also gotten out.

“I’m sorry about last night, man. If I’d realized what your mood was, I wouldn’t have bothered with Caitlin.”

Oliver couldn’t resist raising an eyebrow in question over that. Tommy waved him off.

“She wasn’t as eager as I thought. We had fun, but she left with her friends. Then I couldn’t find you. Someone had spotted you leaving with Kimber, but didn’t know who she was.”

Oliver nodded. “Good, I don’t want her dragged into my mess, if possible.”

“What’s really going on, buddy? I’ve never seen you like this before.”

Oliver straightened himself up a bit more. Fortifying himself, he thought briefly.

“I don’t think I like the person I’ve become, Tommy.” He shook his head, despite the pain. “No. I know I don’t. Something’s gotta change. I’ve got to stop being this guy.”

Tommy looked at him long and hard. “Okay. But I’m not going to lose you as a friend, am I?”

“No. Never. I … I just don’t know what I’ve got to do yet, but …” Oliver finally just shrugged, signifying that he didn’t have all the answers yet.

“Well, I’m going to leave you to sleep it off. Hope you’re feeling better. See you back at the apartment, later?”

Oliver nodded, and Tommy started to drop down into the car, but stopped with his head just above the roof.

“I know it’s none of my business, but what are you going to do about Laurel. She’s my friend, too, and I don’t want her hurt any more.

“I think we’re done. I don’t like hurting her, but we’re toxic for each other. We don’t want anywhere near the same things right now and I just end up doing something stupid every time she pushes. I’m not doing that again. She’s probably still going to hate me, but we’ll stop repeating our mistakes.”

Tommy nodded. Oliver thought he was going to say something else, but he instead dropped into the car and pulled the door shut.

Oliver waited until Tommy had backed up and pulled out of the parking lot, then pulled his phone back out of his pocket. He thumbed to a contact that he didn’t call very often and hit the send button.

The phone rang several times before the call was picked up.

“Oliver?”

“Hey, Dad.”

Robert Queen’s voice was hesitant as he asked, “Are you alright, Oliver? Where are you?”

“I’m fine, Dad. For a change. I haven’t been arrested and I’m not in any trouble. I’m down at the _Gambit_. I’m going to grab a couple hours of sleep. If you’ve got the time later, though, I’d like to talk to you. I … I just need someone to talk to.” Oliver nearly stuttered the last part.

“Okay. Are you sure you’re okay? You don’t sound like it.”

Oliver laughed, but there was no humor to it. “Yeah, my head’s pounding, though. That’s why I’d like a couple hours of sleep before you come by.”

There was a pause on the other end of the call and Oliver could picture his father looking at his watch and thinking about timing.

Sure enough, when Robert spoke again, it was to set a timeframe. “It’s just after noon now. How about I come down to the _Gambit_ about three?”

“That works. Oh, and Dad, don’t bring Mom. Let’s just the two of us talk,” Oliver said before disconnecting the call.

< = = = = = >

Oliver had just emerged from the shower when he heard the ship’s bell ring, signaling the arrival of his father. The _Gambit_ was big enough that the two Queen men had developed a habit of ringing the bell to announce their arrival on the yacht back when Oliver was in junior high school. The tradition had taken on other dimensions and reasons as Oliver got older, but in the last few years, it hadn’t been needed much due to Oliver’s long periods of time away from Starling and Robert’s increasingly infrequent use of the yacht. Now, Oliver smiled at the sound of the bell, as it reminded him of simpler, happier times.

The younger man quickly dressed in a pair of shorts and t-shirt before making his way to the main cabin. His father had already grabbed himself a bottle of water and taken a seat on one of the luxurious seats lining the cabin. Oliver moved to the mini-fridge and grabbed a water as well; the thought of anything stronger making him a little queasy.

“Do you want to move up to the deck?” Robert asked.

Oliver looked at the sunlight streaming into the cabin and shook his head. His head was much better after the painkillers and water he’d downed before his nap. He wasn’t sure that he could handle the bright light outside yet, however.

“No, let’s sit here.” Oliver kept his head down, intensely studying the carpet pattern.

Robert looked at him with a critical eye and finally laughed.

“Head’s not that good yet, huh?”

Oliver looked up at him. “No.” There was an attempt to growl, but, as usual, his father’s perceptiveness took him too much by surprise for his response to have much bite to it.

“It took some doing to convince your mother not to come down with me, you know.”

Oliver rolled his eyes at that, prompting a little flair of pain behind his eyes.

“I really didn’t want to have this talk with her,” Oliver finally admitted.

“So last night had more of a psychological impact than physical? It’s nice to see you unharmed, though. And not in jail.”

Oliver grunted, then sat quietly, trying to figure out how to explain the morning. He stared intently at his water bottle, hoping that the simple liquid would somehow provide the answer. The silence stretched on for minutes, but Robert Queen knew when to just listen, so Oliver was able to collect his thoughts.

“I screwed up. And … it’s not like this is the first time…” He laughed, but it wasn’t a mirthful sound. “But when I woke up this morning, it was the first time I really understood how badly I had screwed up.”

“Why don’t you start with last night? What happened?”

“Tommy and I went to the frat’s party. Colin somehow talked Max Fuller into letting the house reserve Poison. Or maybe Max convinced Colin to have the party there, I’m not really sure. I wasn’t going to go, but Tommy pointed out that I’d had a really shitty week and that the party would be a chance to wash it away. I was going to drink anyway, so I figured ‘Why not?’ Stupid idea.”

Robert nodded. “What happened this week?” Something go wrong at school?”

“School’s fine, although I couldn’t concentrate as much as I wanted. Laurel and I had a really big fight last weekend. Same old problems, same old arguments. She makes all the usual threats, but she never says we’re breaking up.”

Oliver looked up at his father.

“I am literally the worse boyfriend in the history of boyfriends and she refuses to break up with me. What the hell, Dad?”

Robert laughed, but Oliver knew that it wasn’t directed at him, but rather the situation.

“Aside the fact that I don’t like to hear you so down on yourself, I’m not sure what’s going on with Laurel, Oliver. I don’t understand why she doesn’t walk away, either. I’m sorry to agree, but you have unfortunately given her lots of reasons to leave you.”

Oliver glared at his dad for just a second, then shrugged his shoulders.

“Yeah. So anyway, it wasn’t enough that she raked me over the coals on Sunday, she literally called me at some point every day to tell me again how mad she was and what a jerk I am. By last night, I had just had it. It didn’t take much talking from Tommy to change my mind about going to the party. And yes, I am well aware that drinking my troubles away is not effective problem solving.”

“No. No, it is not. Unfortunately most of us have to learn that lesson the hard way. I know I did.”

Oliver nodded. He knew that his Dad had had his fair share of stumbles over the years, but Oliver never really saw that in his Dad’s actions now. The two sat quietly for a couple of minutes before Oliver realized he hadn’t finished his story.

“So anyway, we hit up the party and I started drinking immediately, not really interacting with anyone. I was going slow, but it doesn’t take long to get buzzed if you aren’t doing anything other than drink. Then came the big blow. I’m not sure why, but Janelle Stafford was at the party.”

“The model from Stanford? The wild one, I believe you called her?”

“Yeah. Well, from L.A, although I think she’s originally from Starling. She was working down there a lot while I was at Stanford. She never went to school there.”

Robert laughed again. “Your mother really did not like her.”

That sparked the first smirk out of Oliver since he started talking. “Yeah. I get that. Anyway, she comes slinking through the crowd up to the bar, two or three other girls tagging along. Took me a minute to figure out who she was, but once I did, I tried to play it cool. Just said hi and asked her how she was doing. I got nothing.”

Robert had the good sense not to comment.

“Finally, one of her friends looks right at me and says, ‘Ya know, Ollie, you’re kinda bad for Janelle’s reputation. She’d rather not be seen talking to you.’ And they all walked away.”

Robert cringed at that.

“That led to more drinking,” Oliver continued. “I vaguely remember this cute blonde coming over to the bar and talking to me and the next thing I know, I’m waking up with the worst hangover I’ve ever had and I can’t remember a thing past the blonde’s first appearance. Of course, she’s sitting there in the middle of her very pink bedroom giggling at me.”

Robert Queen sat up straighter, clearly in defensive mode. He had unfortunately had to bail Oliver out of similar situations too many times in the past for him to stay calm.

Oliver waved him back down. “Relax. Nothing happened. Well, that’s not entirely true. The girl had taken me home – I’m pretty sure out of pity – and put me to bed. In her bed. Her very pink bed in her very pink bedroom. And before you ask, she’s nineteen. I asked.”

Robert Queen studied his son carefully. “So there no ugly situation I’m going to have to bail you out of?”

Oliver shook his head. “No. Nothing happened. And I explained to Kimber that she was much better off that way. Nothing more humiliating than telling a girl that you’re not worth it.”

A quiet descended on the cabin for a few minutes. Oliver recognized that his Dad was again giving him time to think through what he wanted to say.

“How did I get here, Dad? All of a sudden, I just don’t understand what the heck I’m doing.”

“Self-discovery’s tough, son. Your Mom and I have been trying to tell you for years that there are consequences to your actions. Not just for yourself, but for others. I had hoped that we could convince you without you having to learn the lesson the hard way, but you are stubborn.”

The older man shrugged. Oliver just felt lost.

“The question is: what are you going to do now?” Robert finally asked.

“I don’t know. I told Tommy I needed to make some changes, but I don’t know how to do that. I feel like I’ve messed up so much that nobody’s going to see me as anything more than a screw up anyway.”

“Unfortunately, you are going to have an uphill battle with changing people’s perceptions, but the people who know you, the people who care about you will give you that opportunity. Most people who hold on to their negative opinions of you won’t matter in the long run.”

Oliver nodded. He understood that, although the reality of dealing with it wasn’t easy.

“Can I make a suggestion? Or a couple, I guess.”

“Sure.”

“Make a list of the things you want to change. Come up with a plan to change that part of your life. The most important thing is that you have to understand why you are changing something and what you gain by changing it.”

“I had already decided I was going to change my approach to school. Last semester was better, but I know I’ve got to focus more.”

“Okay. I like the sound of that. What are you going to do to change that?”

“Believe it or not, I’ve already done that, well changed some things anyway. Tommy and I agreed that there are no more parties in our apartment and we got rid of most of the alcohol. He didn’t even fight me on that. I think I’m going to lay off the weekend parties as well. As long as I remember how I felt this morning, that’s not going to be too difficult.”

“What about Laurel? Doing all that will make her happy.”

“Laurel and I are done. Don’t get me wrong, I like Laurel, but I don’t love her. Not like I should at this point. I can’t keep trying to fall in love with her.”

She’s not going to take that well, is she?”

Oliver hung his head, but forged ahead with his assessment of their relationship.

“That’s kind of the point, Dad. Everything in our relationship is about what she wants. She wants me to finish school, starting working at QC, move in with her, get engaged, get married and start having kids. She wants me to support her through law school. She wants to be seen on my arm at social events at least once a month, preferably more often. She wants us to be the biggest power couple that Starling City has ever seen. I’m not sure I want any of that. I’m pretty sure that I don’t want that with her.”

Oliver looked up to see his father looking at him with a critical eye, assessing him.

“So what do you want?”

“Believe it or not, I do want to finish my degree. I don’t want to be considered a failure anymore. I don’t know about working for the company, right now. I’m sorry if that disappoints you Dad, but I’ve spent so much time dreading that obligation, that now that I’m getting close to having to shoulder it, I just don’t know if that’s for me.”

Robert chuckled softly. “Yeah, I have to admit that your mother and I have been a little too focused on you succeeding me eventually. We’ve never considered what you want. I’m sorry about that, Oliver.”

“I kind of get it, Dad. I just don’t know if that’s for me.”

“I’ll tell you what. When you’ve got your degree, you’ll have a job waiting for you at QC. One that is appropriate for your interests and skills. If you don’t like it or you want to try your hand at something else, I’ll support you. No matter what. That removes the immediate need to get a job, but it will let you explore what you really want to do.”

Oliver nodded, carefully considering his father’s suggestion. “I can handle that.”

There was a long pause before he continued.

“I’m going to take care of the Laurel situation tonight. It will be ugly no matter when I do it, so I might as well get it over. You know, there’s always the chance that Captain Lance will shoot me before I even get to talk to Laurel. I’d like a quiet funeral, if that happens.”

Robert laughed.

< = = = = = >

Oliver was pretty sure he was less nervous the first time he walked up to the Lances’ front door. Quentin Lance really intimidated sixteen-year-old Oliver and, while twenty-two-year-old Oliver was more sure of his decision to break up with Laurel than he had been of anything in his life, the police officer still made Oliver feel like a six year old caught stealing cookies from the kitchen.

It took twenty-seven seconds for the front door to open after he pressed the bell. Oliver had counted, wondering how long he should wait before either pressing the button again or running away.

At least Quentin wore exactly the frown that Oliver had envisioned on his way over. That was comforting in a weird way.

“What do you want, Queen?” barked Quentin Lance.

Oliver steeled himself. “I would like to speak with Laurel, if she’s here?” He managed the question with no wavering or hesitancy in his voice.

“Pretty sure she doesn’t want to speak with you.”

“I understand that, sir. Despite the fact that she has chewed me out every day this past week.”

Quentin raised an eyebrow at that.

“Captain, let me explain myself to you and then you can decide if I should talk to Laurel.” Oliver realized that making it clear to Laurel’s father that he was going to put an end to their drama might be the only way to get to Laurel to do the same.

Oliver saw the look of curiosity on Quentin’s face and backed up a couple of steps to allow the older man to step outside. It was chilly, but not overly cold and Oliver figured what he had to say wouldn’t take long.

“First of all, I am perfectly aware that you don’t like me, sir. I understand why. I have been an awful boyfriend to Laurel over the years. I have no excuse for that. I have been selfish and a lot of the time, I have just ignored Laurel’s feelings in favor of doing what I wanted to do.”

That’s the most honest thing you’ve ever said, Queen.”

Olive bowed in acknowledgement.

“Last night, I had my eyes opened to the kind of person I have been, and I didn’t like it.”

Quentin sneered. “What happened, pretty boy?”

“It doesn’t really matter, sir, except for the fact that I realized that I am not good for Laurel and that I don’t want to continue hurting her. Unfortunately, since she refuses to break up with me, I’m going to have to do that.”

“You came over here to break up with her in person?” Quentin asked incredulously. “I didn’t think your generation did that? Don’t you text everything?”

“My mother would have never forgiven me. She will be mad enough that I broke up with Laurel, but she would be even madder if I did it the easy way.”

“You’re not doing this just so you can do something stupid without Laurel being on your conscience? You have a track record, you know.”

Oliver shook his head once, vowing to plow on. “No, sir. You may not believe it, but I don’t enjoy hurting Laurel. We were friends long before we were together. I’d like to hope that someday far in the future, she will forgive me enough to be my friend again.”

Quentin barked a laugh at that. It wasn’t a pleasant sound.

“You’re serious, aren’t you?”

“Yes, sir. I woke up this morning and found that I really didn’t like myself much. If I can stop hurting Laurel, that will make things a little better. I’ve got a lot of other things to change as well, but this is a start.”

Quentin shook his head in disbelief. “I admire the fact that you are stepping up, kid, but I don’t like what this is going to do to my daughter.”

“I don’t either, sir. I love Laurel, but I don’t love her like she wants me to. I don’t like myself right now, so I’ve got to fix that first and I can’t do that if I’m constantly trying and failing to make Laurel happy.”

Quentin’s look had morphed into one of surprise and Oliver was sure that the man had never thought that he could be this serious or thoughtful. “Okay, but you better not be back in two weeks wanting to start dating again.. I will not put up with that.”

Oliver just nodded in agreement.

Quentin reopened the front door and waved Oliver in.

“She should be up in her room. I’m going to go warn Dinah,” he said as he followed the younger man in and shut the door.

Oliver took another deep breath to steady himself and headed up the stairs. He moved to Laurel’s open door and looked in. Laurel was sitting at her desk, hunched over a book. Oliver was suddenly glad that she had moved back home for her senior year. The slightest thought of having the coming conversation in a sorority house made him shiver. That audience would be much worse than Laurel’s parents..

He knocked on the door frame to announce his presence. When Laurel spun around, he almost winced at the look she gave him.

“I’m nowhere near the point where I want to hear you beg for mercy again, Ollie. When I am, then I’ll let you know.” Her voice was ice.

Oliver froze for just a minute; then he realized that Laurel’s response was why he was in this position to begin with. He steeled himself. He had been here before, ready to put an end to their relationship and she had always managed to distract him or scare him or put him off and he had allowed it to happen. The guilt from the morning came crashing back down on him and he decided that he would not be stopped in doing what he knew was right.

“That’s not why I’m here, Laurel.”

She had started to turn away, but that caused her to spin back around, fully facing him now.

“Then why are you here?”

“I’ve been doing a lot of thinking this week. Then I had the worst night ever last night and I’ve made a decision. I think we need to stop seeing each other. We need to stop trying to make our relationship work, because I don’t think it ever will. I don’t want to keep on hurting you. I don’t want to keep repeating the cycle of getting together, me doing something stupid and hurting you, and breaking up. Although we never really seem to break up. You just stay away until you’re ready to put up with me again.”

“I wouldn’t have to do that if you’d just act right,” she hissed.

Oliver’s anger flared for just a second, but he reined it back in. The sheer exhaustion he felt helped.

“And what does that entail, Laurel. How should I be acting?”

He watched as Laurel sat silent, her eyes blinking.

“What do you mean?” she finally asked.

“You are always telling me that I need to act right. I want to know exactly what you mean by that. And let’s eliminate the obvious: I shouldn’t cheat. I need to do better in school. After that, what don’t I do right?”

Oliver could tell that she hadn’t really thought about this.

“I don’t know. You should treat me better.”

“I’ve already mentioned the cheating part. But if you are implying that I somehow don’t treat you well, I would disagree. I suppose there’s a difference depending on where we are, but I have always tried to make sure that you were my focus when we are at some official social function. Frat parties are not quite so formal, but if we went together you were still front and center.”

“Oh, yeah,” she said sarcastically. “You couldn’t keep your eyes off that blonde bimbo at that party last fall.”

Oliver shrugged. “You’re probably right, I looked too much. But I _never left your side.”_

__

__

“Okay, how about the fact that you refuse to get serious about taking over your father’s company? Or about being a civic leader?”

Oliver smiled, but it wasn’t in amusement. He had known that she would bring up his ‘obligations’ eventually.

“Have you ever heard me say that I wanted to take over QC? Or that I wanted to be a leader in the community?”

“No, I haven’t. That’s the problem?”

“Why is that a problem? No, let me answer that for you. You think it’s a problem because _you_ want me to be those things. You know that my parents want me to be that person. Have you ever _once_ asked me what I wanted?” Oliver’s voice had risen with his agitation, and he took a deep breath to calm himself again.

“Why wouldn’t you want that? It’s just sitting there waiting for you. And I want to be right beside you.”

“Just because it’s being handed to me doesn’t mean that it’s something I want. I have been told my entire life that I was going to be CEO of Queen Consolidated and quite frankly, for a long time now all I could see was the toll it took on my father; the toll it took on my parents’ relationship. Why in the hell would I want that?”

Oliver could tell that this was something Laurel had never considered. She finally said, “But your parents seems like they’re great…”

“First of all, my mother would rather die than let anyone see a sign of weakness in her life. You may be a lot closer to the family than almost anybody, but she’s still not going to let you see the cracks. She and Dad were nearly separated for close to a year and yet pretended to be a happy couple so her _sister_ wouldn’t know anything was wrong. Things are a lot better these days, but they both had to work at it.”

Laurel had no response to that.

“Dad understood perfectly this afternoon when I told him that I wasn’t sure that I wanted to take over the company. I’m not saying that I won’t eventually, but he and I are going to take it slowly. That is a long way in the future, right now.”

“I don’t get it. If you’ve decided that you’re going to straighten your act up, why don’t you want us to be together?”

Oliver could see that now that she had worked through her anger, she was going to get upset and emotional. He took another deep breath, knowing that what he said next was going to be the toughest for her to hear.

“I love you, Laurel, I really do. But not the way you want me to. You are one of my oldest friends, but we lost that friendship in trying to make ourselves more. I’m not sure you love me the way you think you do either. I think – and this is just what I think – I think you see us as this incredible power couple ruling Starling City society. Basically the next version of my parents, except that you’ll be the top lawyer in town and I’ll be the most powerful businessman.”

“No, I don’t…” Laurel’s protest trailed off as she really considered what he’d just said. Oliver noticed that she was now failing in her attempt not to cry. 

“I don’t see myself that way. Despite my very stupid and obvious taunting of the paparazzi over the years, I could care less if my picture ever appeared on another front page or website again. I don’t want that. It’s just taken me an incredibly long time to realize that.”

She was still crying, but Laurel’s voice took on an edge again. “You’re serious. You really don’t want to be together anymore.”

“No, I don’t. I don’t think it’s good for either one of us. I would rather stop trying to make something work that never will and hope that we can eventually be friends again.”

“What if I don’t think we can ever just be friends again?”

“I’m aware that might be the case. I’ve done a lot of stupid things to hurt you and I realize you may never be able to forgive me. Even if I completely turn myself around, I’m never going to be the guy you want me to be. I’m not saying there’s anything wrong with your expectations, but you have to realize that I may not be the guy to meet them. I just think we’re more different than you think we are.”

There was a long silence. Oliver stood there, barely inside the door to her room while she still sat at her desk, facing him but not looking at him. Oliver was pretty sure that she was still sobbing even though she was quiet again, but he made no attempt to console her. That would just confuse things, and for once in his life, Oliver wanted there to be no confusion between them.

“I hope this is really what you want, Oliver Queen. I’m not going to take you back after this. When you walk out that door, that’s it.”

“I understand that.”

“Have a nice life, Ollie,” she said bitterly, before spinning back around to face the desk.

Oliver took a step back out of the room before turning and heading down the stairs. Laurel’s parents weren’t anywhere to be seen and Oliver quietly left the house. He was a little surprised at himself. He had expected to feel terrible, but instead he felt as if a weight had been lifted. He had in no way solved all his problems. As a matter of fact, he had now set himself up for a really uncomfortable conversation with his mother. But despite the long day, he felt better about himself than he had in a long time. He felt like he was moving in the right direction for the first time.

< = = = = = >

**May**

By the time the bell rung signaling the end of the exam period, Oliver had been through the test three times. The last two times to double, then triple check his answers. There were still a couple of answers he wasn’t completely sure about, but he felt really good about his performance on the test.

He gathered up his pencils and eraser and stuffed everything in his backpack. He let the rest of the class clear out, his confidence in how well he had done allowing him a certain amount of peace. This test was his last for the semester and while he was pleased with how well he had done across the board, he knew that this class had been his best.

He finally walked up to the desk and laid the test down on the pile. He looked up at Professor Dunleavey and saw that the older man wore an amused smile.

“If you’ll stay back for a minute, Mr. Queen, I’d like a word.”

Oliver just nodded in acknowledgement and backed off to stand to the side. He was one of the last five or six people to leave the room, so it was no more than five minutes and everyone else had cleared out. The Professor gathered the tests, shuffled them into a neat stack and slid them into his messenger bag. He gathered the book he had been reading and some writing materials and put those away as well before looking up at Oliver.

“I’m thirsty, Mr. Queen. Mind walking over to the Commons with me? I’ll treat you to a coffee, if you’d like.”

“Okay, sure.”

The two men exited the classroom and headed toward the doors nearest the University Commons.

“Well, how you think you did?”

Oliver couldn’t help the smile. “Good. There were a couple of questions I’m not sure about, but I was really prepared otherwise. I think it went well.”

“I guarantee at least a third of your classmates do not share your optimism. I always find it interesting to watch students take a final. Their faces are very telling.”

“Okay,” replied Oliver, not really sure what else to say.”

“I must say, Mr. Queen, you have vastly exceeded my expectations.”

“Oh. Thank you, sir. I think I’ve enjoyed this class more than any other I’ve taken. I got a lot out of it.”

“I’ve talked to a couple of your other professors this semester. They said that you were as hard-working in their classes as you were in mine. And not to put too fine a point on it, but this was not your academic reputation coming in, son.”

Oliver bowed his head, but pulled it back up in short order.

“No, sir. It was not. It was time for a change.”

“What happened, if you don’t mind me asking?”

Oliver glanced at the professor for a minute before looking ahead again. The question was probably straightforward, but Oliver wasn’t sure he could answer it without giving up some information he really didn’t want to.

He finally said, “I reached a point at the start of the semester where I realized it was time to grow up. I had already been thinking about some of my choices, but I had a particularly bad weekend and that put things into proper focus. The rest was easy … well, easier, I guess.”

“Yeah, that happens.”

Oliver chuckled in spite of himself. “Took me a lot longer than it should have, but I really never had the motivation up ‘til then.”

Dunleavey looked at him.

“Inheriting your father’s company wasn’t motivation enough?”

“You may find this hard to believe, but inheriting the leadership of QC has never much appealed to me. I’m not sure that I really want it even now, although I’ll admit that for the first time in my life, I’m seriously considering it.”

“Really?”

Oliver nodded. “It is more than a little intimidating when you are told at seven years old that you’ll have to run the company one day. I spent years watching the toll the daily stress of the job took on my father. Doesn’t seem all that great when seen from that perspective.”

“Never thought of it that way. But you know, you don’t have to do things the way your father did just to succeed.”

“I’m beginning to understand that. My father is beginning to understand that. My mother? Well, she’s another story.”

The professor laughed at that. They walked in silence until they reached the Commons. They entered and moved to the coffee shop. After ordering, they took seats at one of the many empty tables. Because it was mid-morning and late in finals week, the area was mostly unoccupied, so it was no problem finding an isolated table.

“You mind if I ask another question?” the professor said after a couple of minutes.

“No, sir. Of course not.”

“I understand that you met my daughter early in the semester.”

Oliver recognized that it wasn’t really a question, but he decided to treat it as such. Besides, he heard no animosity in the professor’s question.

“Yes, sir, I did. She seemed very nice.”

“That’s good to know. Her mother will be pleased to hear that. Mind if I ask about the circumstances of your meeting?”

Oliver subtly shook his head, a sense of looming trouble eating away at his good mood. He decided to be as honest as possible without relating the whole ugly episode.

“It was that bad weekend I told you about. I had had too much to drink and your daughter – Kimber, right? – made sure I made it home safely. My best friend had left me alone a little too long and I was in worse shape than I normally allow myself to get.”

Dunleavey laughed. Actually laughed. At him. Oliver was savvy enough to recognize that, but he wasn’t sure what was so comical.

“Your version is a little more innocent than my daughter’s.”

“Oh?”

“Yeah, she might have mentioned – to her mother, mind you – that she had found you completely blotto at the bar during a frat party. She knew who you were, but you were drunk enough she became worried about you and decided to bring you to the house. It sounded like she found you highly amusing when you woke up the next morning. And surprisingly gentlemanly.”

“Like I said, it was a bad weekend. Your daughter was the sole positive aspect, to tell you the truth.”

“Well, I was proud to hear that she helped you out; not so impressed with her attending a frat party while underage and with bringing a guy back to the house.”

“She seems like she’s a good girl. And smart. I don’t think she was very happy with me when I told her she really didn’t want to be associated with me, though.”

“You told her that?”

“Yeah. I am … well aware of my reputation, professor. Not proud of it, mind you. Waking up in that bedroom with all that pink was a wakeup call for me. I decided that I didn’t want to be that guy anymore.”

Oliver had bowed his head at some point, a little embarrassed with having to relive that night.

“Oliver, if you’re worried about this impacting your grade or anything else, don’t be. When she finally told me about the night, she begged me not to take it out on you. I wouldn’t have anyway. I was a little curious to see if you would even admit to it, to tell you the truth.”

Oliver decided to continue to answer truthfully. “I’ve lived with too many secrets in my family, professor. I’m trying something different.”

“It’s working for you, Oliver. Keep it up.”

The conversation moved onto other topics for a few minutes, with the professor complimenting Oliver about his attention and participation in class during the course of the semester. It was enough that Oliver left the professor with the same sense of satisfaction and peace that he had when he had finished the test.

He had come a long way in the last three months, but there were times when he doubted he was making any progress towards being the man he wanted to be. Very few people were willing to see anything other than what they thought they knew about him, let alone give him the opportunity to change. Dunleavey’s acknowledgement of seeing the change gave Oliver the confirmation that he needed to know that he could become better.

< = = = = = >

**Three Days After the Dance**

Despite the completely chaotic day that Monday had been, Oliver felt just as good when he got to the office Tuesday morning as he had the morning before. It was no secret why, to him at least, but as he waded through his morning emails and started on the day’s tasks, he felt more at peace than he had in a long time. He felt as if he had finally got his life fully on track. As he settled in at his desk, his mind turned to all of the tasks left to do before he assumed his father’s position in a couple of weeks.

He was knee deep in the quarterly report on overseas production when he heard a light rap on his door. He looked up to see an attractive blonde standing in the door, but it wasn’t the one he was hoping to see. Instead, this girl was taller than Felicity by three inches, thinner as well. Her hair was much lighter than Felicity’s honey blonde, although worn shorter. She was wearing a pink dress with a white lightweight sweater and a pair of pink heels. Oliver thought she looked familiar, but it took him a long moment to recognize her.

“Kimber? Kimber Dunleavey? How are you?”

“I’m good, Mr. Queen.”

“None of that. It’s Oliver. Mr. Queen is my father. He sits two floors above me.”

Kimber laughed and the sound was just as musical as he remembered.

“Okay, Oliver. I just wanted to stop in and congratulate you. I met Felicity several months ago and really liked her. When I saw the release yesterday that you were dating, I immediately realized that the two of you would make a great couple. I’m really happy for you.”

That surprised Oliver. Lots of people had wished him well over the last day or so, but Kimber was the first to tell him that she thought he and Felicity made a good couple.

“Thank you. I appreciate the compliment. Felicity makes me a better person; and I’m just trying to do the same for her. You say you met Felicity a few months ago? How?”

“She came in to help with a project that I was working on as part of marketing.”

“You work for the company? I know I don’t know everybody, even here in Starling, but I would have recognized your name in the employee roster.”

“Oh, that’s because my last name is no longer Dunleavey. I got married right after school. It’s Kimber Wright now.”

“Ahh, that explains it. You like working for QC, I hope?”

“Yes, very much. You seem to have taken to it pretty well. My dad said that you weren’t sure this is what you wanted to do.”

Oliver nodded in agreement. “I didn’t. But once I realized I could make the job what I wanted it to be, instead of letting it control me, things got better. I like what I’m doing and where we’re headed. I want to keep moving the company forward.”

Kimber nodded with a huge smile on her face and Oliver realized his assertion had been very ‘party line.’

“Marketing did not write that for me,” Oliver said a little defensively.

“No, but it sounds like something one of my colleagues would write.”

“So, you stopped in just to congratulate me?”

“Yeah, I hope that’s okay.”

“Absolutely. That’s always going to be okay. And that won’t change no matter what office I’m sitting in.”

Kimber smiled again. “That’s good to hear, Oliver. Listen, I’m going to head back down to my office, but I couldn’t resist the opportunity to stop by.”

“Thank you. And I think you should know that you are partially responsible for me being here. You helped me realize that I wanted to be better than I was. So I really want to thank you for that.”

Oliver found the blush on Kimber’s cheeks refreshing and he was reminded of that morning several years ago that had made it possible for him to be sitting where he was this morning. Maybe that weekend hadn’t been so bad after all.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So that's how Oliver realizes that he should be far more than a playboy douchebag. Felicity moment of clarity is next.


	2. Felicity Faces Some Hard Facts

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Four years before Felicity was asked to dance, she was a different woman. This is the story of how she starts on the journey to becoming the woman Oliver Queen falls in love with.

**Four Years Ago**

**A Cold January Saturday Morning in Boston**

 

Felicity Smoak pushed open the dorm room door with more force than necessary, but she was ticked. A quick glance around the room confirmed her suspicion that the object of her search was not in the room.

“Where is he, Myron?” she snapped at her boyfriend’s roommate.

“Why, hello, Felicity. It’s good to see you. By all means, come on in.”

“Where. Is. HE! Myron?”

The man she was addressing just stared at her for a long minute. On the best of days, Felicity tolerated Myron Forest because of their shared interest in hacktivism. Most of the time, she just ignored him. Some days, she finds it all too easy to unleash her Loud Voice on him. She’s dangerously close right now.

“Strangely enough, Felicity, since Cooper started dating you, I have been even less inclined to be his keeper than I was before. And, for the record, I didn’t much care what he did before you started sleeping with him.”

Felicity shook her head to keep herself on track. She had more important things to do than emasculate Myron over his outdated gender attitudes. Again.

“Have you heard from Cooper this morning, Myron?”

“No.”

Well, at least she didn’t get more attitude than necessary with that answer.

“Great! Well, I’m pretty sure he was going to go off and do something stupid a couple of nights ago. And now, he won’t answer his phone or any of the hundreds of texts I’ve sent him. He’ll call you first if he’s in trouble.”

“Maybe he decided he was tired of you nagging him.” The smirk that Myron flashed was enough to prompt Felicity to smack him, but Myron’s phone started ringing before she got to him. She was close enough to see Myron’s avatar for Cooper pop up on his phone.

“On speaker!” she ordered him just before he answered. He flinched at her forcefulness, but did as she asked.

“Hey, Coop! What’s going on, man?” Myron said while glancing warily at Felicity. She was impressed he was smart enough not to give her presence away,

“Where are you, Myron? Am I on speaker?”

“I’m in the room. And yes, you’re on speaker. I’m working on something and didn’t want to completely stop.”

Myron shrugged at Felicity. Maybe he really wasn’t quite as stupid as she thought.

“Have you heard from Felicity? She’s texted me like a thousand times.”

Felicity shook her head violently, indicating that he should deny her presence.

“Yeah, she’s already been here this morning. She left me some skin, but man, she’s pissed at you. What did you do?”

There was a long pause before Cooper answered.

“I think I screwed up. I took Felicity’s super-virus code and used it to hack into the Department of Education. I was just going to brag about the hack, but then I found the database that tracks student loans. It was ridiculously over exposed. I started to delete records, but I think I got caught.”

Felicity’s eyes got big and she was about to say something when Myron held up his hand to stop her.

“What do you mean you got caught?”

“I think that there was some type of defense program running on a software layer beyond where I used the virus. I stopped the deletion command and backed out, but I don’t know if they were able to track me.”

“I thought Felicity said that the virus wasn’t functional?”

“It wasn’t completely, but it was closer than she said it was. I think she’s been lying to me about it.”

Myron snorted. “Maybe because she figured you’d do something stupid.”

“No. Well, maybe. But Felicity’s too goody two shoes to really be a hacktivist. She doesn’t understand that you have to take chances to make a difference. Anyway, I added a couple of subroutines to her program and it seemed to do the trick. I should have run it on the database server as well, though.”

“So are you what, hiding out?”

“I don’t know. Maybe? I was coming out of class yesterday afternoon and I thought I saw a couple of guys in suits following me. I’ve been playing hide and seek with the suits for the last day. I ducked back into the room last night while you were asleep and grabbed some clothes. I had to sneak in through the loading dock. I may need you to bring me some more clothes, though. Just a couple of shirts and that brown jacket I never wear.”

“Yeah, okay.”

Felicity was again ready to say something when a new voice came over the phone. It was lower and deeper than Cooper’s and full of authority.

“Mr. Seldon? Cooper Seldon? We’d like you to come with us. We have some questions we would like to ask you.”

“Hey, man. Get your hands off me. Get your hands off me.” There were sounds of a struggle and Cooper’s voice had risen in excitement and probably fear and Felicity shouted her boyfriends’ name at the phone, but she was sure that the call got cut off.

She looked at Myron and found him looking back at her with the same sense of shock she felt.

“Oh, god. That idiot. What did he do?”

< = = = = = >

Felicity worked for three days to find out where Cooper was being held. Myron Forest proved to be every bit as useless as she thought he’d be; he wasn’t even willing to call Cooper’s parents to let them know what had happened. Felicity had to make that phone call even though she was sure that Cooper hadn’t informed his parents that the two of them were together.

It was only when Felicity involved her advisor, Professor Armand Ricker, that she finally made some progress. Ricker was the assistant head of the Computer Sciences Department and specialized in Cybersecurity Ethics. The fact that he held his J.D. and had passed the Massachusetts Bar enabled him to make some headway in finding out what was happening to Cooper.

On a bright, but cold Wednesday morning, Felicity Smoak and Prof. Ricker arrived at a Federal Detention Facility south of Boston. There were met by snippy Special Agent Karen Bostwick who was not impressed that Cooper’s whereabouts had been revealed. Felicity was more pleased than she should have been when Ricker made it clear that despite whatever crimes his former student may or may not have committed, he wasn’t going to be railroaded by an overeager FBI agent without a sufficient knowledge of the law to carry out her duties correctly. Bostwick glared at the professor for several minutes, but finally passed the two of them off to a member of the facility’s staff before stomping off.

Ricker spent ten minutes consulting with Cooper while Felicity waited in the hallway. Having adopted her Goth style the summer before moving to Boston – much to her mother’s dismay – Felicity had long grown used to the stares and disdainful looks her appearance usually garnered. She had even dressed up this morning. Her black jeans were the only pair she owned without rips down the front of the legs. She had worn a purple t-shirt instead of her usual black tank although she still wore her black leather jacket and black boots. She had toned down the jewelry as well, wearing only her earrings and her silver Ankh necklace. She had even gone with softer makeup and a pink lipstick. Still, standing in that stark hallway where she was regularly passed by both men and women wearing formal business wear was the first time Felicity had truly felt uncomfortable dressed as she was.

It was a relief when Ricker finally exited the room and she was able to enter. Their guide warned her that she had ten minutes but she acted as if he hadn’t heard him. He grunted at her silence and pulled the door shut behind her.

Cooper was sitting on the far side of a bare metal table. There were two matching, heavily dinged up metal chairs, the one on the far side occupied by her boyfriend. He was dressed in an orange jump suit which struck her as overly clichéd. It took her a second to realize that his hands were handcuffed and the chain was wrapped through a metal bar running across his side of the table.

“Jeez, Cooper, did you really need the handcuffs?”

He shrugged, rattling the chain some. “I took a swing at one of the suits that picked me up. They apparently don’t like that.”

Felicity involuntarily rolled her eyes. Cooper always had this attitude like he could fight anybody and win, but she remembered that a member of the women’s volleyball team had knocked him down with a single punch. They hadn’t been dating yet, but she had found the attitude a lot more attractive back then.

“What did you do, Coop?”

“I took a stance, Felicity. Just like I always said I would.”

“Looks to me like you picked the wrong battle.”

“What would you know, Felicity? You built this tool that would give you control over any system and yet you wouldn’t use it.”

“No, Coop. I built a tool to prove a concept. I’m more interested in building a tool to stop attacks than commit the attacks.”

“And that’s why you’ll never really be a hacktivist, Felicity. You’re too goody two shoes to make an impact.”

Felicity swallowed hard, the implications of Cooper’s accusation running deep. She could feel her eyes watering, but she refused to cry in front of him. Instead, she snapped back.

“So I’m not good enough for you, Coop?”

She watched a myriad of emotions flash across his face. They had been together nearly two years, but she still found him hard to read at times. Finally a bit of a sneer settled on his face, although she thought it seemed forced.

“You were never going to be my partner, Felicity. Not fully. You’re not willing to do the things that need to be done to fight the power. You’re not ruthless. You’re too good. And that’s not what I need.”

“So what was the last year and a half, Coop? You just playing with me?”

Cooper laughed, but it was an ugly sound.

“You were good for some laughs. And I got you to program the virus for me.”

He stopped and looked around the room, and Felicity suddenly wondered if they were being monitored. There were no weird mirrors and no obvious cameras. She suddenly ducked down to look under the table, but the underside was bare metal just like the top.

“Screw ‘em,” Cooper said when she sat back up again. “What did you think was going to happen, Felicity? Did you think we were going to both graduate with our degrees and go find corporate jobs that make some fat cat loads of money? That was never my plan, girl.”

Felicity just stared at him, realizing just how little she knew about him.

“We had an expiration date, Felicity.” He tried waving his hands around, but the cuffs prevented much movement. “All this just moves the date up a few months.”

Despite all the signs, Felicity hadn’t been expecting that. She blinked hard, fighting hard to keep her tears at bay.

“I went to bat for you, Cooper. I got the professor involved. I _called_ your parents. They didn’t seem too surprised to hear you were in jail, though. Your mother was really surprised a _girl_ called to tell her you’d gotten in trouble.”

“Oh, great! Thanks, Felicity. You know I don’t really want anything to do with my parents. Heck, I think your Mom probably has more parenting skills in her pinky than mine.”

“Well, excuse me for caring, you ass.”

“That’s just it, Felicity, I never asked you to care. What we had, it was just mutual benefits. Well, and you using the only real skill you have to help me with your programming.”

Felicity was stunned and really had no comeback.

“I’m going to make this easy, Felicity. Don’t come back. I don’t want to see you again.”

“Cooper?” Her voice was small suddenly.

“I mean it, Felicity. Get your degree. Go work some mindless job. Find some smuck to pretend to love you and marry you. Or don’t. I don’t care. But don’t think that I want any more of your help.”

She could feel the first tear escape and run down her cheek.

“Oh, and you really should rethink the whole Goth thing. The only thing Goth about you is the clothes, Felicity. You’re too nice. Too bland to really be Goth. You got no edge and you’re never going to have it.”

Felicity sat there looking at a man – no, a very immature boy, she realized – to whom she had devoted a year and a half of her life, and he was dismissing her as if she were nothing.

“We’re done, Felicity. You can leave now. I don’t need you anymore.”

Cooper banged his hand on the table to signal the guard standing outside.

When the door opened, Cooper very quickly said, “She’s ready to go. We’re done here.”

Felicity looked at him once more, but he was now intently staring at the wall to his left. She stood up and turned to the door. The guard, who really looked barely older than Cooper’s twenty-two years, went to put a hand on her arm to lead her out of the room. She flinched away from his arm.

“I don’t need your help,” She sneered with all the vehemence she could. The guard quickly pulled his hand back.

Throwing her head back, she marched out of the room. The guard again pulled the door shut, then touched a call button on his belt. Felicity caught the movement and assumed he was calling for assistance to move Cooper back to his cell.

The professor looked at her and she could tell he was weighing whether or not to ask about the tear tracks on her cheeks.

But before he could ask, she said curtly, “Let’s go. I need to get out of here.”

They walked back to the professor’s car in silence. Felicity slid into the passenger side, wrapping her arms around herself and forcibly looking out the window to her right. The professor maintained his silence, starting the car and heading back to campus.

Twenty minutes later, just as they crossed the bridge into Cambridge, Felicity swiveled to look at the professor.

“I would prefer to never talk about Cooper Seldon again.”

“I think I can manage that, Felicity. I’m sorry, though. You shouldn’t have had to go through that.”

Felicity harrumphed, but said nothing.

“Whatever he said about you, Felicity, you should ignore it. Mr. Seldon’s always been willing to take out his own fears on everyone else.”

Felicity just nodded once, but still stayed silent. They soon reached the parking garage nearest the professor’s office. Felicity muttered a quick “thank you” before she headed back to her apartment.

< = = = = = >

**Two Weeks Later**

Professor Ricker had called her early that morning to ask her to come by his office. He was adamant when he suggested she be there by 9:30 am, but punctuality had never been a problem for Felicity, so she knocked on his office door at 9:21.

The door wasn’t all the way shut, so she easily heard him call her inside. She entered, moving to one of the two chairs in front of his desk at his invitation.

The professor cut to the chase.

“I got a call yesterday afternoon. Special Agent Bostwick wants to talk to you. I strongly suggested that she could talk to you here at the office and that I would be acting as your counsel.”

“Am I in trouble?” Felicity asked meekly. She had been struggling with Cooper’s actions and her own part in everything over the last two weeks. Despite the professor’s advice, she was feeling very inadequate in the wake of Cooper’s rejection. When her father had left all those years ago, it had done some serious, if undeserved damage, to her confidence, and Cooper had played into that heavily when he berated her at the prison. Now everything seemed like another attack on her sense of worth.

“As far as I’m concerned, you’re not, Felicity. Unless there is some programming you did that I am not aware of, nothing you’ve done as part of your dissertation project was inherently bad. From everything I know, you have been scrupulous in your research.”

“You’ve seen everything, sir. There was another module that I planned out, but I didn’t actually write the code. I don’t know if Cooper tried to do it, but there were parts that were most likely beyond him.”

Ricker nodded. “That’s what I figured. My suggestion is that you answer the agent’s questions as best you can, but do not let her intimidate you. Trust me, she’s going to try. She strikes me as the kind to not care too much about who is actually guilty as long as she can fill up her net.”

“When’s she supposed to be here?”

The professor glanced at the clock hanging on the wall. “In a few minutes. Go get some water and come back and settle down to wait for her.”

Felicity did as he suggested and five minutes later found herself sitting quietly, mindlessly staring at the rips in her black jeans. It had briefly occurred to her that she should have dressed better, but then she remembered her experience at the prison and a bit of the ‘screw you’ attitude that she had maintained for her entire college career kicked in.

Fortunately for Felicity’s sanity, she didn’t have too long to wait. A couple minutes before 10 am, there was a knock on the professor’s door. When Felicity looked up, there stood the FBI agent. Felicity hadn’t paid much attention to the woman the last time she met her, but this time she fully took in the other woman.

Special Agent Bostwick was short, a couple inches shorter than Felicity, if she’d had to guess. The agent wore a sensible pair of black pumps with a modest heel which really didn’t do much for her stature. She was dressed in a very plain suit: medium gray with a skirt that fell to her knees and a jacket that concealed any hints of her upper body shape. She had a nondescript light blue blouse underneath. She wore no jewelry outside her silver watch and a simple ring on her right hand. Her makeup was equally understated and her hair was pulled back on the sides and apparently clipped in the back. The overall look was no nonsense and Felicity figured it was an attempt to create some essence of authority. As far as Felicity was concerned the effect failed, but then again, she had been raised by a Jewish mother who was capable of being imposing while wearing a cocktail dress and five inch heels, so everything was relative.

“Nice to see you’re on time, Miss Smoak,” the agent opened with.

“I’m always on time,” Felicity countered. She had decided that she would bluff confidence just to annoy the agent.

The other woman started to reply, but thought better of it. She moved into the room and took the second chair in front of the professor’s desk. She was only carrying a business style portfolio and she laid that on top of the stack of papers sitting on the corner. She looked briefly at the professor, then turned to Felicity.

“I’m here because I don’t think Mr. Seldon has been completely forthright with me. And I want answers. I think you have those answers, Miss Smoak. The more you cooperate, the better.”

“Okay.” Felicity was smart enough to know that the shorter her answers, the better. Which, given her tendency to ramble, was easier said than done.

“Mr. Seldon has contended that he acted completely alone. Yet, when my tech examined a couple of scraps of the software left behind in the attack, your name was in the comments.”

Felicity could tell immediately that the agent wasn’t particularly technical because she was obviously just reciting what her tech support had told her.

“My name in the comments means nothing, Agent Bostwick. Anyone who worked on the code or even had access to it, could have put my name in there. Furthermore, even if the code was something I developed, that means nothing as far as use.”

Felicity was working hard to maintain eye contact with the agent, but she could see a smirk cross the professor’s face.

“Okay, well let’s say that the program was yours. Do you often write … trojan software?”

“More often than most,” Felicity replied. “I’m working on my master’s in Cybersecurity. I’ve written software to see if I could exploit things in other software. I then turn around and figure out how to stop that exploit and write the software for that.”

“That seems convenient,” the agent said with a bit of a sneer.

“It’s the truth,” the professor said, his voice very matter of fact. “Miss Smoak has actually developed several defensive pieces of software that are in place at MIT. She is the best developer I’ve taught in my fifteen years of teaching.”

The agent obviously didn’t like that. Felicity watched her roll her tongue from left to right inside her clinched jaw.

“So how do you explain Mr. Seldon getting his hands on your software, Miss Smoak?”

“Unfortunately, he had ready access to it. Up until two weeks ago, he was my boyfriend, Agent Bostwick. Although, apparently, my only real usefulness was to write software that he couldn’t. I would have thought you already knew this since I’m guessing I’m the only one to show up to visit him at the prison.”

The Agent carefully considered this. “You were a couple? Mr. Seldon doesn’t strike me much as the boyfriend type.”

“He’s not. But yes, we were.. And whether, he should have or not, he had access to my laptop. And probably my network storage as well. He knew what I was working on for my dissertation. So it wouldn’t have been too difficult for him to make copies of my programs. He did not have permission to do so, however.” Felicity’s voice had increasingly taken a sharp tone as she spoke to the point where she was growling as she finished.

“Doesn’t seem like you were very smart, Miss Smoak.”

“Agent. You are dangerously close to crossing a line with my client. Do you have any further legitimate questions? Because if you are just going to sit here and question her judgment or make pointless accusations about her personality, then we’re done.”

“You know, Professor, you keep acting like you’re these kids’ lawyer. Where do you get the idea you can do so?”

“I’m a fully accredited lawyer, Agent Bostwick. My degree from Harvard Law can testify to that. I have also passed the Bar in Massachusetts, Connecticut, Rhode Island and New York. My degree is in copyright and intellectual property law with an emphasis on digital IP, but I did a fair amount of study in general criminal law, enough to know that your tactics border on harassment. And I am not about to see you bully your way into forcing either Miss Smoak or Mr. Seldon into saying something they shouldn’t. I’ll let the evidence speak in Mr. Seldon’s case, but I can assure you, Miss Smoak has done nothing more wrong than perhaps making a bad choice concerning who she falls in love with.”

Felicity winced at that, despite knowing the professor was absolutely right.

“So again, unless you any further pertinent questions for Miss Smoak, I believe we’re done.”

The FBI agent’s frustration was written all over her face, but she clinched her jaw again to avoid saying anything. She stood up to leave, but then her expression shifted, signaling to Felicity that she had a final thought.

“You said that you had developed this software that Mr. Seldon used…” A glance at the professor made her reword her statement. “…allegedly used for your dissertation. I would like to have a copy of this dissertation.”

“When it’s done,” Felicity said bluntly.

“And when it’s been accepted by her committee,” the professor added.

“And when will that be?” the agent snipped.

“Sometime in early April, I would imagine. We haven’t scheduled it yet,” the professor said.

The agent looked at Felicity, then at the professor before turning back to the younger woman.

“Fine, but I’ll expect a copy as soon as the process is complete.”

With that she walked out of the office. Felicity listened to the click click click of her heels until they faded to nothing. Then she let out a long breath.

“You okay?” the professor asked kindly.

“Not really, but I suppose that went about as well as I could expect.”

The professor shrugged. “I don’t think she’ll bother you much more. And given what I know about your dissertation, when she does get it that will prove your claim of innocence. Well, at least it will verify that you had no ulterior motive behind the software you wrote.”

She wasn’t sure where it came from, but another frightening thought hit Felicity. She turned to look fully at the professor for the first time since Agent Bostwick had entered the office.

“How badly is this going to mess with me getting a job? It’s all going to look really bad, isn’t it?”

The professor shook his head. “No, I don’t think so. As a matter of fact, I have a company in mind that I want you to look into. They’re a manufacturing company that’s really starting to make some great improvements in a wide variety of tech products, but they’re going to need somebody like you. Somebody who can make a difference to the development process from a security standpoint.”

Felicity was frazzled enough she wouldn’t really remember this part of the conversation later, but she did ask the professor what company he was talking about.

“Queen Consolidated. They’re mainly on the west coast, but the owner of the company is an old friend of mine. He’ll like you and I think you’ll fit in with what he and his son are trying to accomplish.”

Felicity just nodded. The professor told her that she needed to go home and do something that would take her mind off the events of the morning. Felicity went back to her apartment and for the first time in her college career she started drinking before noon.

< = = = = = >

Five hours and four glasses of red wine later, Felicity decided to do something that she rarely did. She picked up her phone and called her mother.

Normally, Felicity would have carefully chosen when she called her mom. Although Donna Smoak’s hours still fluctuated some, Felicity knew that she was usually more available during the mornings and early afternoons. Donna liked shifts in the evening and nights because they always yielded better tips. Her mother was experienced enough and good enough at her job that most casinos wanted her as a waitress and it had been years since Donna had switched jobs out of necessity.

So when Felicity wanted to talk to her mom, she would call around noon or so. Her mother would be up and relatively awake. If she wanted her mom to see that she had called, but really didn’t want to talk to her, she would call much later and almost always could leave a message. There were a lot of mid to late evening phone calls.

Today, however, Felicity wasn’t even aware of the time when she picked up the phone. She was only aware of the fact that she had no one else to call. She had very few female friends and since the start of her relationship with Cooper, most those girls had faded away, put off by Cooper in one fashion or another. Felicity had lost touch with the two or three friends she had had in high school and none of them were really the type of friend that she could share this particular situation with anyway. So her mother was the only choice.

“Hey baby girl! You know I love hearing from you, but I’m getting ready for work.”

“Mom.” Her broken exclamation was the only thing she could get out before she broke down sobbing.

“Felicity! Honey. What happened? What’s wrong?”

“Cooper...” Felicity had no idea had to explain this to her mom. That would have been true even without the wine clouding her thoughts. “He did something stupid…”

The normal bubbly enthusiasm in Donna’s voice was gone. “No surprise there. What did he do, Felicity? Did he hurt you?”

“Yes. No. I don’t know how to explain it, Mom.”

“Oh, honey.” Then as an afterthought, she asked, “Are you drinking?”

“The wine seemed like a good idea a couple of hours ago.”

“It always does. And then it doesn’t.”

Felicity just sobbed again.

“Okay, Felicity Meghan. I need you to pull yourself together enough to explain what’s going on. Start with what Cooper did.”

There was a long pause before Felicity started. “Cooper stole a program I wrote from me. He used it to do bad things. He got caught and is in jail.”

So quietly that Felicity didn’t hear her, Donna said. “Good. It’s where he belongs.”

“Mom. He told me that he was just using me. He just wanted to get my ‘super virus.’ That’s what he called it. Idiot. I was just trying to prove something could be done, so I could figure out how to stop it. He took that from me, Mom.”

“Are you in trouble, Felicity?”

“No. Maybe. I don’t know, Mom. There’s this FBI Agent who does not like me. She’s short and wears really boring clothes. She’s mean. I think she thinks I’m the bad guy. Maybe she’s thinks Cooper’s too stupid to be the bad guy. I think Cooper’s too stupid to be a bad guy. But he was really mean. He told me that he was always going to break up with me.”

“Felicity, focus for a minute. Do I need to get you a lawyer?”

“No. Professor Ricker is helping me. He’s helping Cooper, too, because he’s a really good guy. But he’s helping me more. I think he likes me better than Cooper.”

Donna snorted at that. “Felicity, what’s Professor Ricker’s full name?”

“Professor Ricker. Oh, you mean his first name.” There was a long enough pause that Donna was afraid that Felicity had fallen asleep, but the girl finally responded with, “Arrrrmand. It’s French. Or European. Something like that. Armand Ricker. He’s the head of the cybersecurity department. Or the assistant. I don’t remember. He’s important. And he’s helping me with my dissertation. Did I tell you that? He’s been really helpful, too. He’s a good professor.”

“Felicity? Felicity! Listen to me. I’m going to hang up in a minute, but I want you to go drink some water and take a couple of aspirin. And then I want you to go to sleep. Everything will be better tomorrow. I’ll call you back as soon as I get a chance, okay.

“Okay, Mom. Mommy. I’m sorry I bothered you.” Felicity suddenly felt very tired.

“Just get some sleep, baby girl. Everything’s going to be okay.”

Felicity hung up and then said, “Thanks, Mom. I’ll talk to you later.”

She really wished she had remembered the aspirin when she woke up the next morning.

< = = = = = >

**Late April**

Felicity knocked on the professor’s office door, despite the fact that it was standing almost completely open.

Armand Ricker looked up and at first didn’t recognize the girl standing in his door. She was blonde, dressed nicely, but conservatively. She was wearing a dark blue skirt with a soft pink sweater over a light blue blouse. A pair of dark blue pumps completed the outfit. Her makeup complimented her pale skin and tight ponytail, except for the bright pink lipstick. She was also wearing glasses and that was the clue he needed to realize he knew the girl.

“Felicity?”

“Hi, professor.”

“You look very nice, Felicity. I like it.”

“Yeah, I decided that Goth Felicity probably wasn’t very marketable. And I would like to get a job.”

“Oh, are you talking to the folks from Queen Consolidated today?”

“I just finished. I can’t believe that the CEO and the operations manager came to interview me. What did you tell them?”

Ricker grinned. “I just told Robert that you were the most brilliant student that I had ever taught and that you would fit in well with what his company was trying to do. Did the interview go well?”

Felicity nodded. “I think so. The operations guy explained a lot of their current projects and some of the things they want to do and I was able to share ideas about how to make them more secure. That seemed to go well.” Felicity grinned. “I managed to only ramble once and it was about technology. I didn’t say anything to embarrass myself.”

The professor grinned again. “Good.”

“Mr. Queen said that he would like to talk to me again tomorrow. He said that he needs to talk to his HR Department. I think that’s a good thing. Is that a good thing?”

“It is. I’m guessing he’s trying to figure how much to offer you.”

Felicity’s eyes lit up in surprise. “That would be good. Oh, and Mr. Queen said he would give you a call a little later and set up dinner. You’re going to dinner with him?”

Ricker chuckled at that. “Yes. We’re old friends and we don’t get to see each other nearly often enough.”

Felicity nodded. “Okay. Well, I just thought I would let you know the interview went well.” She turned to leave again.

“Felicity?”

At the professor’s voice, she turned to look at him again.

“Look, I know that a lot of this semester has been hard on you. And I know that you’ve blamed yourself, without really knowing why. You need to stop. You did nothing wrong. All the crap you’ve gone through this semester is on Cooper.”

“I understand what you’re saying professor, but I find it hard to believe sometimes.”

“I know that. But I want you to look at this opportunity with QC as your chance at a new start. I think the job could really challenge you, but you’re going to need to speak up for yourself. Robert will look out for you, but there’s only so much he can do. You’re a strong person, Felicity. I know that, but I haven’t seen much of it the last couple of months. You can’t let anything that idiot Cooper said or did convince you that you aren’t great. You are. And I really want you to show the world that.”

Felicity bowed her head. “Thank you. I’ll do my best.”

“Are you going to keep the new look when you move?” the professor asked with a bit of amusement.

“Yeah. No matter what, dark Felicity is gone. This is who I am now. My mother would be pleased, although I’m sure she would call the clothes boring.”

Armand Ricker had met Donna Smoak once, when she and Felicity had come to visit MIT more than four years ago. Felicity could see the moment his image of Donna came to mind.

“Yeah, she probably would, but I think they fit you well.”

Felicity smiled. “Thanks, Professor. I’ll see you around. Enjoy your dinner.”

The professor’s pep talk didn’t alleviate all of Felicity’s fears, but as always, his faith in her helped her see through the clouds that had seemed to follow her everywhere the last three months. And that was good enough for now.

< = = = = = >

**Five Days After the Dance**

Felicity was pretty sure that announcing you were dating someone was the most ridiculous thing she had ever heard, but she had to admit that she hadn’t lived in a fishbowl all her life like Oliver had. He assured her that if they hadn’t announced their relationship the way they had, the press would be pursuing them much more than they had. So far, that had been limited to several requests for interviews, both joint and individual, and a couple of photographers lurking around Queen Consolidated.

For the first time ever, as far as Felicity knew, she and Oliver had been photographed on their walk to Susannah’s Café. The only difference between today and all the times over the past two years that they had walked the four blocks to the restaurant was that Felicity had her hand firmly settled around Oliver’s arm. The photographer waiting outside QC was actually nice enough to ask them if he could get a couple of shots to which they both shrugged and started walking. Oliver explained once they had sat down at the Café that the photographer, Bill Foster, was kind of a friend of his. He had done some private work for Oliver when he and Tommy had first opened Verdant and so Oliver tried to accommodate his requests when possible.

The girl at the counter of Susannah’s grinned when she saw them and offered them a bubbly congratulations. They thanked her and placed their usual orders.

“We really need to try something else once in a while,” she said as they settled into their normal booth.

Oliver’s face seemed somehow more amused than normal as he replied. “I like what I order, Felicity. Why would I want to change?”

“Change is good for you,” she told him with faux seriousness.

“Fine. I’ll order something different next time if you will.” Then his expression grew mischievous. “Or we could just swap what we ordered today?”

“Ah, no. I don’t think so.” That provoked a laugh from both of them.

Oliver was about to ask her about the follow up to Monday’s cyberattack when a male voice asked, “Felicity Smoak?” from off to the side.

Both their heads snapped around to look at the man approaching them. It took Felicity a minute to recognized the man. He was wearing a dark gray business suit; his white shirt was unbuttoned at the collar and the red patterned tie hung loose. Felicity also noticed that he wore a gold watch and a couple of gold rings, but no wedding ring. His hair was on the long side of fashionable, but that was what ultimately gave away his identity.

“Myron Forest.”

Felicity tensed just a little. She wasn’t sure what to expect from Myron, but if their history was any indication, she was probably in for an uncomfortable conversation. She braced herself and turned to her boyfriend and did the formal introductions. “Oliver, this is Myron Forest. He was a … classmate of mine at MIT. Myron, this is Oliver Queen.”

“Oh, I recognize you, Mr. Queen. It is nice to meet you, though.”

Myron extended his hand in greeting to Oliver. Oliver shook it briefly before settling back in his seat.

“Same here, and please, call me Oliver. Mr. Queen is my father.”

Myron laughed at that. “Okay.”

He turned to Felicity. “I’m kind of surprised it took this long for us to run into each other.”

Felicity face grew confused. “Why’s that?”

“I moved back to Starling about six months after graduation. I knew you had taken the job with QC and just figured we would eventually cross paths. It’s been what, three and a half years or so?”

Felicity thought for a minute, then nodded her agreement. “I think that’s right.”

“It sounds like you’ve done well at QC,” Myron commented. Both Felicity and Oliver listened for any hint of sarcasm in the comment, but Myron seemed to be genuinely complimentary.

“Yes, I have. I think the job has exceeded my expectations.”

“What do you do, Mr. Forest?” Oliver asked, curious, but also trying to relieve some of Felicity’s remaining tension.

Myron waved off the formality. “I’m definitely just Myron. I’m an investment advisor. I was not as good a programmer as Felicity, but I found that the business stuff made sense. It took a couple of false starts, but I realized that I understood the stock market and investment stuff pretty well. I had an uncle who ran a brokerage business and he convinced me to move back and join his firm.”

You’re originally from Starling?” Felicity asked.

“Yeah.”

“Why didn’t I know that?”

“You have to admit, Felicity, you and I didn’t exactly get along back then. I won’t have known you were from Vegas, if Cooper hadn’t constantly griped about it.”

Felicity tensed at the name, but shrugged, unable to disagree with that assessment.

“I figured out why that was, by the way.”

Felicity quirked an eyebrow at that, but left her question unvocalized.

“It was Cooper. I lived with the guy for three years, and I think I despised him from about the second semester on. When you started dating him, I lumped you together. I’m going to guess that you picked up on the ongoing tension between Coop and I and naturally sided with him.”

Felicity shrugged again in silent agreement. “That makes sense,” she commented after a minute or two.

“I was wrong about you, though. You weren’t like Coop. At all. I visited him once, that semester. Before they hauled his butt off to Federal prison. He told me what he had said to you during your visit.”

Felicity frowned, uncomfortable with the memory even now.

“He was wrong, you know. You were probably the only thing that kept him in school and kept him from being completely inhuman. He was going to go off the rails eventually. It is unfortunate that you had to be the one who caught the brunt of that. You didn’t deserve it. And trust me, everybody knew that you didn’t deserve to put up with that crap.”

“Thank you, Myron. I’ve put Cooper in bucket of best forgotten mistakes, but it’s nice to know that other people saw things from my perspective.”

“Everybody saw that. Most of us knew that you just couldn’t see it, but Cooper fooled a lot of people, at least for a while.”

Felicity just nodded. She had long ago realized that much of that final semester really was just Cooper being Cooper, but there was always going to be a little guilt lingering in the back of her mind. Hearing Myron’s assessment chipped a little more of that away.

The waiter chose that minute to drop off her and Oliver‘s food at the table.

When he had left, Myron said, “I’m going to leave you two to your lunch. Congratulations to both of you, by the way. Mr. … Oliver, I hope you realize just how great a woman Felicity is. I knew it all those years ago, even if I didn’t tell her so. Felicity, it was great seeing you again. If you ever want to catch up or talk about old times, give me a call.” He handed her his business card and with a wave walked away.

Felicity and Oliver spent a moment situating their plates and taking a drink.

Finally Oliver said with a bit of a smirk, “He seems like an okay guy.”

“Certainly different than I remember.”

“You going to call him sometime?”

Felicity looked hesitant, even before she answered. “I don’t know. Just that little reminder of that last semester at MIT was hard, Oliver.”

“I know it was. I would have known it, even if I hadn’t seen it on your face.”

Felicity looked up at him. She had told Oliver the Reader’s Digest version of the Cooper Implosion late one night while he was waiting with her while she did some unplanned maintenance on a firewall. As always she was a little astounded at the amount of detail about her that he obviously remembered.

“Felicity, I’m certainly not going to tell you what to do. But I will say this. Cooper took away a lot from you with his actions back then. I think I know you well enough to know that you enjoyed college; you enjoyed the challenge and the intellectual environment and being surrounded by other people who really spoke your language. I’m guessing Cooper tarnished – or worse – all of that. If you reconnect with Myron or other people who were your friends back then, you might regain some of what you lost.”

Felicity looked at her boyfriend with surprise. “When did you become so astute, Mr. Queen?”

He harrumphed at that. “I’m hardly astute. But I have had to learn how to read people over the years. I could see you relax when whatever tension was there before with Myron didn’t come up this time.”

“You’re right. Maybe I will have coffee sometime. To be honest, I never gave the guy much thought back then. He was just Cooper’s annoying roommate.” She paused for a minute, wrinkling up her nose. “Truth be told, I’m guessing Cooper and I were the annoying ones. I thought Cooper was the touchy feely kind, but honestly, he just kind of pawed me most of the time. Ewww.”

Oliver laughed at that and took a bit of his sandwich.

“Thank you, by the way. I kind of expected you to get a little protective. This is still new for us.”

Oliver huffed a laugh. “I was feeling protective. But I trust you completely and I’ve learned it’s better to evaluate a situation before jumping to a conclusion. That’s all your influence, by the way.”

Felicity smiled and started eating. The rest of the meal felt familiar – it’s not like they hadn’t eaten at the café dozens of times already – but at the same time, the situation felt new. A really good kind of new and Felicity realized that the time she and Oliver had taken to build their friendship over the years was suddenly worth it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So that's how Danceverse Felicity went from being a Goth semi-hacker to Oliver's one and only.

**Author's Note:**

> This is a prequel to my story ["I Thought You Didn't Dance"](https://archiveofourown.org/works/9314666/chapters/21112160). The earliest of any prequel I will write in the 'Don't Dance' verse, actually. I've hinted at some of what happens here back in the main story, but I wanted to tell the whole story. There will be a part two with a similar 'origin' for Felicity.
> 
> Additionally, I have in mind several more 'prequel' style stories which will involve Oliver and Felicity getting to know one another. I have to say that I never thought my sappy, overly-long, one-shot would have this kind of shelf life nor turn into what it has. But I like 'normal people' Oliver and Felicity and keep finding more glimpses of their lives I want to tell.
> 
> As always, I would love to hear what you think.


End file.
